


Ignored

by josephina_x



Series: Sufficiently Advanced Magic is Indistinguishable from Science [5]
Category: Smallville
Genre: (or he's never gonna figure a way out of this mess), And Lex Needs To Spend More Time Listening, Gen, Imprisonment, Magic, Science, Somebody Is Wrong, Somebody's In Trouble, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:12:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second week of Lex's captivity at Clark's hands starts about as auspiciously as the first week did (...which is to say, <i>not very</i>). Clark takes up prostletizing as a hobby. Things go downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignored

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Ignored  
> Author: [josephina_x](http://josephina-x.livejournal.com)  
> Fandom: Smallville  
> Pairing: Clark, Lex  
> Rating: PG-13 (R, if you worry about swearing)  
> Spoilers: an AU that diverges during the season 7 finale; most everything before that is the same, excepting the one "factoid" that I've changed  
> Word count: 4600+  
> Summary: The second week of Lex's captivity at Clark's hands starts about as auspiciously as the first week did (...which is to say, _not very_ ). Clark takes up prostletizing as a hobby. Things go downhill from there.  
> Warnings: Un-beta'd.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.  
> Comments: Yes, please! :)  
> Author's Note: Third in the series, _Indistinguishable from Science_. [Plays with an old trope.](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/Familiar) (Couldn't help myself; the idea's just come up a couple times recently in a roundabout way. I've been reading sci-fi/fantasy short story anthologies lately; my brain pops out weird things when I do that.) Part 5 overall.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was the start of week two, as far as Lex was aware, assuming that he hadn't slept an entire day at any point, and apparently Clark had thought his silence on the issue of what Kryptonian tech actually was had meant that he'd somehow _"magically"_ decided that Clark was correct in his first protestations, despite the fact that he'd been presented with no new, contradictory information since then that would cause him to agree with Clark in any way, shape, or form

So now, the topic of the day was apparently magic versus science. Clark was trying to 'convert' Lex, while Lex was trying to force Clark out of his delusional state. Lex understood his own reasoning -- if he convinced Clark that this 'familiar' nonsense was idiotic -- _as it rightly was_ \-- Clark would have to let him go.

What he couldn't understand was why Clark felt as though he had to convince Lex of his rightness, too.

Because even though Clark was wrong, as Lex's science was getting close to beating out anything a magic user might care to toss at him, it really should make no real difference in the long-run what Lex thought on the subject -- well, except for the intimations it made upon Clark's sanity and his own justifications for keeping Lex trapped there. It wasn't as though Clark's getting him to believe this 'Kryptonians are magic-users' nonsense would somehow make it less likely for him to escape; he _already_ couldn't get away. Yet Clark apparently, for whatever reason, seemed unable to just let the matter rest -- he wasn't letting this go.

And Lex just couldn't understand the motivations Clark might have behind this, other than to drive Lex crazy, or simply break him further.

Lex covered his face with his hands. He wasn't getting anywhere with Clark, and there was no way he'd be able to definitively prove him wrong, sitting here with him, on his farm, eight feet underground, with no resources or labs to try and get him results to prove to Clark otherwise.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. I'll at least accede that I can't answer all of your arguments -- _right this second_. Just... let's table this discussion for now."

He looked up at Clark again. Clark still looked irritated, but it was better than nothing. Thank god.

...Well, he might as well hear what crazy he was up for next. "Tell me what you think you know about familiars, instead."

And Clark just... shut down.

Which, of course, pissed Lex off, because how in the hell was he supposed to convince Clark of _anything_ if he didn't have enough information on the topic for him to even be able to formulate an argument, let alone an effective _counter_ -argument?!

Then again, why was he even bothering in the first place? It was becoming really damn apparent that he couldn't just convince Clark he was wrong by _talking at him_. ...And, really, how was _that_ any different than _any other fight they'd ever had before?_

...Oh, right, if he _didn't_ convince Clark, he'd probably be stuck down here, chained to a wall, for the rest of his goddamned miserable life.

Lex felt his jaw clench, and didn't even try to relax it, to come across as having any real patience with him at the moment.

"See, _this_ is why I didn't want to tell you, or use the crystal on you, or anything," Clark said with a quiet anger. " _This._ Right here."

So, what, if he was okay with this, then Clark would feel perfectly justified in using the crystal on him?!? _The hell?!_ "What right here."

"You. Acting like _that_ ," Clark told him. "This isn't my fault. You--"

" _Not_ me," Lex snarled and cut him off, the goddamn victim-blaming SOB. "This is not _my_ fault."

"That's _not_ what I--" Clark stood up so fast, his chair fall over. "It _isn't_ my _fault!_ "

Lex wanted to strangle him. He probably would have tried, regardless of outcome, if Clark hadn't just moved out of reach.

"Yes. it. is. _Clark_." He bit out every last word. " _You_ are the one who used that crystal on me. _You_ are the one who tied me up," he held up his wrist and rattled it, "and _chained_ me to the goddamn wall. _You_ are the one who is keeping me locked up in here!" he bellowed at him, slamming his fist into the table and shooting to his feet as well.

"I don't want to!" Clark yelled back at him.

" _Then don't!_ " Lex screamed back.

" _I have to!_ " Clark screamed right back. " _You won't let me not--!!_ "

"You are _out of your fucking mind!_ " Lex shouted back, then turning on his heel, unable to even _look_ at him right then. He paced back and forth in front of him, not even caring how much he must have looked like a caged animal in doing so, at the end of his tether. "Since _when_ the _hell_ did I somehow _'magically'_ end up with control and power over you, Clark?!" he sneered. "Because _I_ remember you taking the goddamn Orb away from me!" he snarled at him. " _You're_ the one with the goddamn superpowers, keeping me in chains. _I_ didn't do that, and I _sure_ as _hell_ didn't **tell** _you_ to!" he said, whirling around and pointing a finger at him.

"If I let you go, you'll _run!_ " Clark shouted back, fists clenched at his sides.

" _WELL, MAYBE THAT SHOULD TELL YOU SOMETHING!!_ "

Clark was shaking with something, possibly rage. "Yeah, _it does_ , it tells me that _YOU. AREN'T. LISTENING. TO. ME!_ " He almost looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Goddamnit Clark!" he yelled. "I've been a fucking _captive_ audience, _LITERALLY!_ " he roared. "If I _haven't_ been listening to you, it's because _you haven't been saying anything worth HEARING._ "

Clark's face twisted up and he flipped the table into the side wall.

And then he turned away and paced towards the shelves, to the opposite 'wall' of canvas sheeting, and ran his hands up the sides of his head and curled his fingers into his hair like he was fighting the urge to start tearing it out by the roots.

He was _visibly_ shaking.

Lex backed off a step, then checked the motion because he didn't want the chains making any noise right then.

He also shut the hell up.

Because that table had hit the dirt wall pretty damn hard, and if Clark wasn't controlling his strength--

There wasn't anywhere for Lex to run.

Clark was breathing heavily, his back to Lex.

Lex clenched his fists and looked at the floor and practiced breathing exercises himself, to try and wrestle down the rage ~~and the fear~~. It was difficult, though, because he couldn't close his eyes on Clark, and keeping him in even his peripheral view was still enough to make him want to _punch_ something right now.

"If I let you go, you'll run," Clark repeated heavily, with tears in his voice, choking off his breath.

And then he walked out without looking back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lex paced.

And paced.

And paced.

\-- _of course_ he'd run if Clark let him go, he was acting like a lunatic!

What was the point of getting free, anyway, if he didn't use it? Not being able to leave, because he was chained to a wall, and not leaving even when he wasn't... it was the same damn thing! He'd still be stuck with Clark, staying right by his side. _His "familiar."_

And if the last few days were any indication... well, he didn't think he'd particularly like what that might entail.

He geared himself up for a fight, but Clark never returned.

Eventually, he wore himself out.

He glared at the offending mess of crockery and glass and last few remnants of their dinner, which had scattered across the godawful tile floor in the Clark-propelled flight of the card table earlier. The mess was making him twitch, and if he left it the smell wasn't going to be pleasant come morning.

He settled for removing the pillowcases from his pillows, wetting two of them down with water from the sink, getting down on his hands and knees, and cleaning up the mess as best as he could himself. He had to rinse out the pillowcases a good three times each before he was done.

In the end, he had his chair and the card table folded up and set to one side, both drying after being wiped down, the floor cleaned and left to dry as well. He'd lumped together the surviving shards of somewhat-wet crockery and leftover food bits in a small pile on top of one of the wooden trays Clark usually used to carry the stuff down, which he'd left it sitting off to the side of the room. It was as close to the stairs and as far away from the rest of the room as he could possibly move it, in the hopes that any bugs that might get at it in the meantime would take the shortest route and stay there.

He hadn't been able to do anything about Clark's folding chair, it being out of his reach, even when trying to use the spare dinner tray as an extension to snag it. It remained where it had been overturned, haphazardly lying on the floor half-open.

Lex washed himself off thoroughly in unheated water from the tap, used the final third pillowcase to dry off, and redressed himself in the same clothes again -- as he was without both towels and pajamas, because Clark usually took care of that after dinner. Somehow he didn't think Clark would be back tonight.

Then he made a final circuit, turning off all of the lights, one at a time, and crawled into bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning, Lex woke at the tail end of Clark leaving -- the managed mess at the far corner of the room had been dealt with, and Clark had set a tray of food down in front of him on the floor by the bed.

Lex levered himself upright. There were three new pillowcases by his elbow on top of the sheets. There was only the one tray of food. The table and chairs were not set up, were in fact missing, Clark had his back turned, and he was already walking away.

The plate, cup, and utensils on the tray were all plastic, throwaway picnic gear. There was a small trashcan with a lid in the corner where the last of the mess had once been.

"Clark," Lex called out. "What are you--" Clark wasn't stopping; he was already halfway to the shelves. This didn't look good. Lex scrambled upright out of his sheets and forward, skirting the tray. " _Clark!_ I want to talk to y--!"

"Why," said Clark flatly, without even a hitch in his stride. "It's not like I have anything to say worth hearing for you to listen to."

He rounded the break in the shelves.

Lex came to a halt at hearing those cold words -- _his words_ \-- twisted and thrown back at him.

He heard the cellar doors slam, knocking him out of his stunned shock.

He realized that Clark wasn't coming back that morning.

Then he began cursing, loud and long.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Things went on like this for three days.

Clark wasn't taking meals with him anymore. He wasn't talking to him. He was all but _actively avoiding_ him, and Lex suspected that the only reason Clark was coming down to the cellar anymore was because Clark felt the bare minimum of responsibility he had to Lex _required_ that he feed him three times a day and give him new clothing once, and take the old and used away with any accumulated trash at the end of each day.

He wasn't even keeping up the daily ritual of taking off and reapplying Lex's chains anymore. Lex wore them constantly now, with not even the smallest reprieve.

Whenever Lex tried to talk with Clark, Clark just stopped where he was, set down whatever he was carrying -- generally food or clothing he was bringing in -- and walked away, right away, without a word. Luckily, this had only happened so far when the things he'd left had been within grabbing distance of the reach of Lex's chain.

Clark started bringing food first, and taking care of removing things later, and Lex learned very quickly not to try to talk to him until he'd at least brought in everything of what it looked like he was going to bring. Instead, Lex waited until Clark was mostly on his way out again to accost him, so that if he failed at engagement, Clark might actually end up still taking whatever trash and dirty laundry he might be holding with him.

Lex suspected that at one point Clark might've used his speed to grab things and leave while Lex was unconscious, before Lex fully awoke again to accost him.

Having more 'things' for slightly longer periods of uninterrupted time didn't exactly help him. He still didn't have access to anything that he could use to make an escape. And without any real interruptions, nothing to do, and no way to keep track of time, Lex spent most of his time lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and soon found himself dozing off at odd times, at intermittent intervals, for unknown lengths of time.

The third night of this idiocy, Lex sat on his bed, left all the lights on, fully-blazing, and waited for Clark to appear and want to know what was going on.

Clark didn't show.

When Lex awoke the next morning to the tune of the chains getting pulled away from the cellar doors, rolled over, and stared across the room at his canvas-covered 'walls' while waiting for Clark to appear, he realized that the lights were still on.

He rolled onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, and thought, _This has to stop._

So when Clark finished unlocking and opening the cellar doors, and walked down the stairs, and had come close enough to set the tray of food he'd been carrying down by his bed, Lex didn't say anything.

But after he'd turned away, Lex closed his eyes and said, "I'm sorry."

He heard Clark's footsteps stop.

He took in another breath, then said, "I shouldn't have said that to you."

Silence.

He swallowed and tried again. "I have been listening to you, Clark."

The next thing Lex heard was so quiet, he almost didn't hear Clark speak.

"No, you haven't."

Lex grimaced, then wiped the expression off of his face. _Breathe, breathe._

"Clark," he began slowly, tone even. "Just because I don't agree with you, doesn't mean I'm not listening to you."

There was an almost petulant silence.

"I'm right."

Lex managed to keep the snarl off of his face. _Of course_ Clark would think that "being right" and attempting to argue some belief of his would automatically have the other person agreeing with him, never mind how little sense he made in his attempts to "explain" or how incredibly unreasonable his demands following might be.

"Clark," Lex tried again. "Please try to see this from my point of view, all right?"

Silence.

Lex opened his eyes slowly to look up at Clark.

Clark was looking down at him. His brow was furrowed, and the corners of his mouth were thin and flat and set, but his arms hung at his sides, not crossed over his chest. --Belligerent, but possibly still willing to listen. Or give a fair try at the attempt.

Right.

Lex took in another breath. And then he began his piece, keeping his voice just as calm and even as before. Someone had to be the adult here, after all.

"I approached the Fortress after Kara--"

"That wasn't Kara," Clark interrupted.

Lex paused.

"Is Kara from Krypton?"

Clark glowered.

"Because..." Lex paused. "The woman who came to see me -- who _looked_ like Kara," he allowed, "told me that she was from Krypton." He grimaced slightly, then settled for telling the truth. "I was leery at first, given what she was saying. I played devil's advocate. But she was very convincing, and she told me that even though The Traveler thought he was meant for good, that he was actually fated to destroy mankind, and that I needed to bring the Orb to the coordinates it had showed me -- to your Fortress -- to control him. You."

Clark looked like he wanted to say something, but he clenched his jaw instead. He waited.

"I left without her for the Arctic," Lex continued. "She'd vanished," he saw Clark shift slightly from foot-to-foot, "and I wasn't entirely sure I could trust her as it was. So I trusted that the Orb would protect me from what had been vanishing my people on the way there, instead of waiting for a Kryptonian to help me get there safely."

Clark was silent for awhile.

"You said I didn't trust you," Clark began slowly. "But you said you didn't trust... 'Kara,' and you still listened to _her_ ," he said. "You believed _her_ over me. You didn't trust me, either."

Mostly he'd believed her because she'd been confirming things he'd already known, like the purpose of the Orb. That was what had helped give the rest of her words a little more weight -- that, and how open she'd been with him.

But Clark wouldn't understand that, so Lex settled for something that Clark _would_ understand.

"Because you've lied to me, Clark, over and over again," Lex said, narrowing his eyes as he looked up at the alien hiding in plain sight right in front of him. Hiding him from everyone else. "I have no reason to trust you. You destroyed that trust a long time ago."

Clark stood there, face unreadable, for awhile.

"...I helped you in the tunnels," Clark said quietly. "And then you helped me."

Lex stared up at him.

"That was a little more than a year ago," Clark continued. "Did you not trust me then?"

Lex didn't respond.

"When the dam broke, you told me to run, and I told you to go on ahead, and you did," Clark said. "Did you not trust me then?"

Lex almost said something, _almost_ explained the why of that... but instead he swallowed, looked away, and kept his tongue behind his teeth.

"When Dr. Knox was killing people, we both fought him together," Clark said, just as quietly. "Did you not trust me then?" His eyes bored into him.

Lex shivered slightly as he remembered that Clark hadn't killed the man to save him... _but neither of them had known that at the time_. Not in the heat of the moment. Clark had thought he'd killed the man, and not known otherwise. Not until after...

"When Lana came after you in that lab--"

" _Stop._ "

Lex closed his eyes. He was having a hard time breathing.

Clark was silent for awhile, then said, "You say now that you didn't trust me. But then..." Clark paused. "At the Fortress, you also said that you would have helped me become a hero, if I had trusted you. 'With everything you had, with everything you could do...' that we could have accomplished that, _together_..."

Lex was shaking.

He shoved himself upright, not looking at Clark.

"You said no-one was controlling me," Lex accused of him hoarsely. "That I had a choice."

"And that no-one was forcing you to use the Orb," Clark said neutrally. "I didn't control you until you wouldn't stop."

"You took away my choice."

"No, you did that," Clark said quietly. "You made a choice, and then I did. Mine was just to stop what you were doing, because it was wrong," he told Lex. "You were wrong."

"If I have no right to control _your_ life, _Kal-El_ ," Lex said, glaring up at him, "then what gives you the right to control _mine?_ "

Clark stared down at him, then crossed his arms and looked away.

Lex bit down on a snarl and turned his own head away, because... _right. This "familiar" lunacy. Of course._

It took him more than a few moments to compose himself again.

"You said I turned my back on you," Clark said. "Do you really believe that?"

 _Yes. No._ Clark's litany of recent events had confused the issue, made him itch under his skin. Lex hadn't particularly liked that. He'd thought he was over this.

"You wanted to know when I've ever thought of anyone other than myself," he said coldly, sidestepping Clark's other question. It was probably rhetorical anyway. "Lionel. My mother. Amanda. Lana." _You._ But you'll never believe me. "Take your pick."

"You killed Lionel."

" _ **HE HAD IT COMING!!!**_ "

Fists clenched, arms shaking, on his feet and right in Clark's face, Lex slowly came back to himself.

Eyes wide, he took a shaky step backwards, nearly stumbled and went down as his heels hit the mattress behind him.

Clark's hands shot out and grabbed him, held him by the arms.

Lex winced and leaned away from him and braced himself against the inevitable--

" _You shouldn't have done it_ ," Clark told him intently, holding him in place, staring right into his eyes.

\--shitstorm of rage and... ... ... _what?_

...That-- that wasn't-- what--

_\--what--_

"You shouldn't have done that, Lex," Clark repeated, sounding a little desperate, a little angry, a little sad, and gave him a soft shake. "If I'd known what you were doing, I'd have--" He stopped. "You didn't know he--" He stopped again, and swallowed. "You shouldn't have done that."

Lex stared at him.

Clark looked at him -- into him -- intently, right back.

Clark slowly let go of his arms.

Lex stood there and stared.

_...That's ...it?_

...That was all Clark had to say? That was all he was going to do?

"Why did you do it?"

Lex stared at him incredulously. Hadn't he been clear about that just now?

He huffed out a small laugh and looked away.

Was that really all that...

\--Wasn't this the same two questions, the very same things Clark had said before?

Then Clark said something that had Lex turning pale.

"What?" he said, looking back at him, because Clark...

_...a total absence of love?_

Clark looked away from him. "I asked Chloe, because you wouldn't tell me. That's what she said."

Lex gritted his teeth and glanced away.

"And who do you suppose she was talking about, Clark?" Lex asked lightly, closing his eyes and trying not to wince. "Me? Or him?"

Because, quite frankly, he didn't want to see the accusation writ large across Clark's face at his response.

There was a long moment.

Lex's eyes snapped open as he found himself enfolded in a hug.

...a very tentative hug.

Lex froze.

...

He didn't know what to do.

...Should he fight?

He wanted to encircle Clark with his arms. ...so he should probably fight.

Clark let go and backed away from him a step as Lex tensed up to lash out, and for some reason Clark looked utterly miserable.

Lex realized that he didn't _like_ that Clark had just given him some space, and this only made him even angrier.

"I don't understand you," Clark said. "Nothing you do makes sense."

 _Oh, really?_ And he he'd thought he'd been very clear: he wanted Clark controlled; he didn't like being locked up like an animal. "Can you be a little more specific?" he said, barely keeping the edge out of his tone.

Clark's shoulders squared for a moment, then leveled out.

"You keep... _doing_ things," Clark said, "and they're not..." He looked away, stumped, and was clearly searching for words. "They don't match. You say you don't trust me, but you do things that..." He shook his head. "And then you say something, then something else, and none of it fits together."

Lex stared at him.

And then he started to review what he'd been saying, trying to understand, to think of what Clark must have been hearing instead, trying to figure out why...

"It's not supposed to be this way," Clark said abruptly, and something in his tone startled Lex out of his rapid, frantic introspection. "You're _not_ supposed to fight me. You're _supposed_ to _help_ me!"

Lex opened his mouth to retort, then Clark's facial expression snagged his attention -- extreme frustration -- and then he realized what had startled him about Clark's tone was how it had wavered in the middle. This was important, somehow.

...This had to do with his expectations?

Lex blinked. Familiar. Clark thought Lex was his familiar. Clark thought Lex was supposed to help him. --He _expected_ it. Was frustrated because he thought Lex wasn't?

...He was supposed to help Clark?

The Arctic. He'd said...

_With everything you had, with everything you could do, did you ever think about what we could have accomplished together? I would have helped you become a hero._

...he'd meant that, hadn't he? When he'd said it?

His head was starting to hurt.

So was his heart.

Lex grasped at mental straws. He didn't know anything about this delusional business Clark was having about this 'familiar' thing. Not yet. If he could figure out what being a familiar supposedly meant... "Help you with what?"

Clark stared at him.

A flash of frustration crossed his face.

"With... with... _everything!_ " Clark blurted out, nearly yelling. "With... the meteor-infected freaks. And... and the Kryptonian stuff. _All_ of the Kryptonian stuff. And fighting Zod. And Lionel. And BrainIAC. And--"

The litany continued, Clark getting more and more worked up. Some things Lex knew what he was referring to. Others... well, most of his references were vague enough that...

"-- _Clark_ ," he cut in harshly, and Clark ground to a halt, breathing hard. Lex took a moment to compose himself, then informed him, "Of those things that you listed that I have known about, I have, in fact, attempted to help fix them." _And apparently get no damn credit for doing so._

"No, you _haven't!_ " Clark protested, irate. "You just made everything worse! _And harder!_ "

Lex stared at him.

Then he twitched, and tried to keep his anger to a low boil, under control, and well off of his face.

Very, very cooly, Lex licked his lips and said, "Clark... has it ever occurred to you that I operate much better when I am in possession of all of the facts?"

He slid his hands into his pockets and glared up at him.

He waited.

Clark went through several facial expressions, then settled on outrage, and... something almost like despair.

"So, what, if I had just come up to you and told you out of the blue sometime, that-- that I was an alien... 'space wizard', and that you were my familiar and were supposed to help me fix everything, and could you please help me, you would have said yes?" he blustered.

" _Yes!_ " Lex said immediately, and then his brain went _\--erk_.

Because, wait, no, that--

Clark was about to retort, but Lex's response was... well, obviously not what he'd been expecting to hear, let alone Lex to say.

And when Clark got over his startled, disbelieving shock, he looked thunderously mad, and positively homicidal.

And then he left.

Lex stood there awhile, feeling cold.

He was shocked to the core with himself.

Mainly because he wasn't entirely sure why he'd said that, only that he... may not have been lying...

...and that spoke rather ill of his mental state, because if that were true, then... what did that imply about how he would have reacted had Clark accosted him and come clean with him before Kara had?

He also wondered who Clark had gone off to kill, because upon further reflection, Lex was fairly sure that the vast majority of that anger hadn't actually been directed at him.

After awhile, Lex looked down at the floor.

And then he sat down on the edge of his bed and ate breakfast.

~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
